show me love
by Maroon-dragon
Summary: A visit from Mycroft leaves John strugling to convince Sherlock that he would always stay with him. Will he be able to convince the lonely genius that he isn't planning to leave?
1. Show me love

**Hi guys, I have wanted to write a Sherlock fic for a while now but I wasn´t sure if I could pull it off to write a story that would be awesome enough to do the characters justice. But this just wouldn´t get out of my head….so my apologies for it. Reviews are very much appreciated :D.**

"Mycroft, what are you doing here?" The impeccable suit looked so out of place in their messy apartment, and when two pair of eyes swivelled to where he was standing he realized he had actually surprised the two Holmes brothers. Must have been one intense conversation then.

"Oh, I was just in the neighbourhood." That haughty voice always gave John unpleasant shivers, which he tried to ignore as he went to make himself some tea. It had been a long day at the practice. Sherlock, who had been unusually quiet, didn't acknowledge him but just past his brother and went to his room.

"Well Dr. Watson I must be off. Always a pleasure." He raised his umbrella in a strange salute and made a move for the door.

"Now hold on a minute, what did you come to discuss with Sherlock?" John knew that he wasn't really privileged to the workings of the siblings, but lately the relation between Sherlock and Mycroft had seemed more tense than usual. Apparently the older man agreed with John as he gave him a disapproving glare.

"Nothing of importance, just the usual of me trying to look out for my brother. He has become a little too emotionally involved lately and I am hoping to _fix that_ soon enough."

John was slightly disturbed by the way the older Holmes had said fix that. Was he planning to take on a case for Sherlock? That couldn't be it, there hadn't been much cases that really involved the younger man. He was actually quite bored lately, if the holes in the wall were anything to go by. Something personal then? There hadn't been a single wisp of information of Moriarty, and though John knew that Sherlock still had the man on his mind sometimes, he didn't seem really too troubled about it. He sighed, he would never understand the Holmes brothers.

_This was an accident__  
><em>_Not the kind where sirens sound__  
><em>_Never even noticed__  
><em>_We're suddenly crumbling_

__The next morning John found Sherlock on the couch in his usual position.

"Want some tea?" he didn't get a reply. It wasn't that strange, the detective sometimes wouldn't speak for days and all of sudden ask for something simple like a pen. Not even explaining why he had been completely unresponsive to John. Nothing fazed the doctor much when it came to Sherlock his behaviour.

When Sherlock still hadn´t moved an inch when he came back from the practice he started to worry. Not too much, mind you. "Take out for dinner?" Again no response.

It was the next morning that John had enough of it. Not talking was normal, but not moving as well…not even for the nicotine patches…that was not normal.

"Okay, that's it. What is wrong with you? Please Sherlock whatever it is let me help. Did Mycroft say something to you?" He got a flinch as a response to that.

"Okay, so Mycroft said something that has got you all worked up? What was it? Come on Sherlock since when do you care what Mycroft says?"

_Tell me how you've never felt__  
><em>_Delicate or innocent__  
><em>_Do you still have doubts that__  
><em>_Us having faith makes any sense___

_Tell me nothing ever counts__  
><em>_Lashing out or breaking down__  
><em>_Still somebody loses 'cause__  
><em>_There's no way to turn around_

"Just leave John." The voice was raspy, not being used for hours on an end, not even drinking something had made the genius his throat parched.

"No I'm not going to leave this alone. Clearly Mycroft said something to you and I want to know what. I don't like seeing you like this.."

"Like what John? Seeing me like a lunatic? Like a weirdo? Like a _freak_? And I didn't mean leave it alone, I meant leave this apartment and never come back." That was a slap in the face, and also very unexpected.

"What? Why? Sherlock what in god hells name has been said to you that made you react like this?" The anger in the younger man his eyes was so clear, but there was something else there. Something very vulnerable.

_Staring at your photograph__  
><em>_Everything now in the past__  
><em>_Never felt so lonely I__  
><em>_Wish that you could show me love___

_Show me love, show me love, show me love,__  
><em>_Show me love, show me love__  
><em>_'Til you open the door___

_Show me love, show me love, show me__  
><em>_love,__  
><em>_Show me love, show me love,__  
><em>_'Til I'm up off the floor___

_Show me love, show me love show me love,__  
><em>_Show me love, show me love,__  
><em>_'Til it's inside my pores___

_Show me love, show me love, show me love,__  
><em>_Show me love, show me love,__  
><em>_'Til I'm screaming for more_

"You want to know what has brought this on? You have heard it so many times John. I don't have any friends, I'm a freak. People do not stay with me!" Ah so that was what this was about.

"You want me to leave because you think I don't want to be here?" John wasn't sure what had crippled the man more, the fact that John didn't deny anything or that he was so blunt.

"Well you don't do you. Mycroft is right about one thing people always leave John! My father did because he couldn't deal with me, they put up with me for my intelligence, you heard Lestrade John."

"Is that what he told you? Mycroft I mean, that I would leave you?" John knew Sherlock was always a bit daft when it came to social situations, but this obvious was even a little much on his part.

"Sherlock I risked my life for you, remember the pool! How can you think I would actually leave you when all that was over?"

"That was just the soldier in you acting up John, I know how much you hate it that I never get the milk, I always make you do stupid things, I keep body parts in the fridge… I know you hate it here John, don't try to deny it. There are more people that you can share a flat with." The younger man turned his back to the baffled older one.

_Random acts of mindlessness__  
><em>_Commonplace occurrences__  
><em>_Chances and surprises__  
><em>_Another state of consciousness___

_Tell me nothing ever counts__  
><em>_Lashing out or breaking down__  
><em>_Still somebody loses 'cause__  
><em>_There's no way to turn around_

"I am going to kill Mycroft for this…"

"For what telling me the truth, reminding me exactly how different I am from _you people,_ not that I needed it with Sally and Anderson at every crime scene."

"No for putting the idiotic idea in your head that I hated being here, hated you." John cursed himself for not realizing sooner that Sherlock wasn't made out of iron. Socially inept he may be, but no human could forget hearing those words all the time. Freak, weirdo, psychopath, even his own brother reminded him of exactly how strange he was.

"Oh please John, I know humans. You are going to leave eventually, and I rather want it to be sooner than later." For once in his life, John wished he had the same intelligence as Sherlock possessed. To know what the man went through every single day. _"It must be so nice not being me.."_ The comment drifted up from his memory, some old case where the young genius had once again insulted Lestrade and him for not seeing things. Yet he didn't need to be Sherlock to see the slight tremor in the shoulders and hands, the refusal to meet his eye. Sherlock didn't want this, didn't want John to leave.

"You don't mean that do you? Remember what I said in the cab, a day after we met and you explained to me how you knew all that about me. I said: extraordinary. Not freak, weirdo or the things those other idiots have been telling you. Yes the body parts are sometimes a little of putting, if you could get the milk once in a while it would be great, and sleeping in instead of hearing your violin at three in the morning would be fantastic. That doesn't mean I am going to leave you, you big twat. Any other flat might have those perks, but there is just one thing missing that I can only find here. And that is you. Everyone has their faults and in a relationship you work on that."

_Tell me how you've never felt__  
><em>_Delicate or innocent__  
><em>_Do you still have doubts that__  
><em>_Us having faith makes any sense___

_Like a game of pick-up sticks__  
><em>_Played by fucking lunatics___

_Show me love, show me love__  
><em>Give me all that I want  
>Show me love, Show me love<br>'Til I'm screaming for more

"Relationship..?"

"Well I mean, we live together, we work together…we are friends. Those are relationships."

"But that wasn't what you meant…" It wasn't a question, it was a statement and for a moment John saw the old Sherlock deducing everything about him. Well it's now or never I suppose.

"No it wasn't. I'm sorry it was a slip of the tongue. I will not bring it up again…" He was cut off by a quick kiss. It was fast, hard and it was clear that Sherlock was inexperienced with it. As soon as it started it stopped and the sociopath shot away from him like he had burned himself. Hiding away on the couch.

"That…I'm…I….god…" It reminded the soldier of the pool incident when Sherlock had tried to thank him for offering his life in exchange for his. The difference was that the man was absolutely shaking on the couch now.

"Sherlock….it's fine you know…I'm not mad…I'm not going to leave." The man didn't respond to any of it, so as a final desperate act he grabbed his hand and started to rub soothing circles over it.

"So many feelings, it's not right." Okay that hurt.

"What do you mean, Sherlock?"

"I am happy, frightened, my heart is pounding, my throat is constricting, and I think… I'm aroused." For the first time John met the man there was a blush on his cheeks. And he had put it there.

"Well that's good isn't it….why are you frightened?"

"You are going to leave me…I can't be feeling like this it will only distract me…you will hurt me." He was one quivering mess.

"Sherlock for the final time, I'm not leaving you! Let me prove it to you…I love you." There he had said it.

"Why John, people do not love me. They fear me, hate me." The black curls tickled his neck as the genius dropped his head on his shoulder.

"I do, you're smart, you're funny, you like the fight just as much as I do, you understand me. You helped me after the war. Not to mention you are terribly handsome…" That got him a chuckle.

"I'm more worried, that you'll get bored with me." The head shot up.

"Not a chance John, besides what would I do without my favourite blogger?" For a moment they just looked at each other. He could see the wheels turning inside that beautiful head of his, and slowly the fear came back again.

"I'm not familiar with this…this social thing."

"I know and I wouldn't want it any other way." And there it was, the first true smile from Sherlock. It would be alright. It would be perfectly alright.

"I'm still going to kill Mycroft though."

"I have some ideas for that…"

**Sorry people to write an evil Mycroft…I actually quite like the bastard ;). The song is show me love from Tatu…but I quite like the male version…there is a youtube video of them with this song…not about this story though. **


	2. His history

**AN as a very great reviewer asked me for another chapter I am happy to oblige. **

Sherlock was warm, so comfortably warm. He always had trouble with the veins in his hands, the blood didn´t get there quite as well and his hands were therefore always cold. But now he was so warm, all over. It helped of course that he was currently being held by his own personal hot water bottle. His head was resting on the older man his shoulder and his hands had snuck under those silly jumpers to warm on his surprisingly firm stomach. He knew John wasn´t asleep as he kept trailing slow circles on Sherlock his back, always changing patterns, making Sherlock completely mellow in his arms. He thought back on the events a few days earlier. Mycroft his visit had actually surprised him.

"_Mycroft, never a pleasure." Sherlock mumbled as he spotted his brother in his kitchen, not bothering to actually look up from his experiment._

"_Can we talk, brother dear." He got two rolling eyes in response. "It's about Dr. Watson." Well that got his attention. _

"_What about John?" The suspicion was almost laughable. He had trained his little brother oh so well. Contrary to what Sherlock might think he did care for the quite often demented genius. _

"_Nothing in particular, just a little conversation. Please do sit down." It seemed almost a dance, the long strides to his chair and before he even had sat down properly the Stradivarius was in his hands. It was one of the few things that Mycroft envied when it came to Sherlock, even with his height he still had a perfect control over his limbs. Always had. Mycroft had to learn that, while to Sherlock those things just came so easily. Like everything else…but emotions. Mycroft wasn't particularly proud of himself, but he had made Sherlock the way he was. He had raised the boy, but his jealousy got the best of him and he corrupted him. Even the brilliant Sherlock Holmes, the one everyone cooed at, the one that got away with everything, didn't realize it when his older brother started to make him less and less human every day. He was the prime example for Sherlock, and he had abused that power so gravely. _

_He had known of course that instead of making Sherlock play outside, get some social skills, making him work in a lab would have this kind of result. While Mummy cared for her sons, she found it quite difficult to show Sherlock the love he needed as a child, as he had unknowingly so deduced from his fathers behaviour that there was someone else, which caused him to walk out on the family. Mycroft had known about the woman as well, but he was old enough to understand that some things were better left unsaid. Sherlock hadn't, at four years old he was a brilliant little genius, and asking his father when they were going to meet his female friend had seemed so simple. He didn't know better, and while Mummy had known that logically, she still saw Sherlock as the culprit that started it all. _

_Mycroft knew he was a terrible brother when he encouraged this behaviour of asking all those questions, not knowing when to shut up. So Sherlock grew up with no social skills. Mycroft at first didn't see much wrong with it, until Sherlock needed to stand on his own and found out that he couldn't. So the older brother vowed to protect his little brother from all the harm in the world, he was after all the one that put him in that vulnerable position. _

"_I want to talk to you about your feelings regarding the army doctor." _

_To the younger man his credit he didn't stop playing, only missed one string, giving a small 'plonk'. _

"_You know how dangerous affections are Sherlock. You will only end up hurt. People like us do not associate with people like them, you know that." _

"_John doesn't belong with the people like them Mycroft, you know that." The pointed stare made the younger man squirm in his chair. _

"_Do you really think John is that much different. He dated that Sarah woman, and all the other women after that were all perfectly normal. What if he finds the one that he wants to marry Sherlock? Do you think he will stay here? Or do you think he will get a house with her and raise a family and have you living in the attic? Be serious Sherlock, you know I'm right."_

"_YOU ARE NOT RIGHT!" Oh he really care about that army doctor. _

"_Am I not? So you think John will be happy, being here all his life, single, alone?" _

"_He isn't alone…." It sounded petulant even in Sherlock his ears. _

"_I mean it Sherlock, cut him loose before he gets to close. Emotions are only more trouble than they are worth." _

And that's when John had come home, the panic that he might leave him had built up in Sherlock after that and he had lashed out. And what a result had he gotten.

"hey, you alright?" Apparently John had noticed the tensing of his body.

"Yeah I'm fine, just thinking about my conversation with Mycroft." He snuggled a bit closer to John. Which made the older man tighten his arms around his own genius.

His genius, Sherlock was officially his. No chance that he would actually be letting him go any time soon. "Mycroft is an idiot Sherlock. I know you guys usually think I'm an idiot any way, but I will be the biggest idiot in the entire world if I let you go."

"I think Mycroft knew you wouldn't go…" it had been a thought that had been on Sherlock his mind for a while now.

"What?" John was genuinely surprised.

"Well why else would he actually come here and talk to me about it, if he already thought you were going to leave? He had known that my father would leave, and he didn't bother to inform me until after the fact. He just came in the room and told me I shouldn't bother caring about the man anymore, it wasn't worth my time. He never came up front with it."

"How old were you when your dad left?"

"Four and a half. I was too smart, even then for him to handle. I figured out he had a mistress before my mother did, and asked him about her."

"And Mycroft didn't explain things to you?"

"Should he have?"

"Yes Sherlock, he should have. You didn't know better, it wasn't your fault. But Mycroft is right, your father was an idiot."

"He wasn't, well he was a little above average with his IQ, apparently he had a habit for strange kinds of drugs, he is the reason for the DNA defect me and Mycroft have."

"Not a defect Sherlock, there is nothing wrong with you. It's just a DNA…..evolution."

Sherlock just cuddled closer to the older man and sighed in contentment, he didn't care whether he was an idiot, or a genius, or a defect, as long as he had John he was fine.

With a small kiss to Sherlock his head silence once again reigned in the small apartment as the two men enjoyed each other company on the couch.

**Well not as long as the previous chapter, but I hope you are happy with it :D**


	3. Meeting fate

**AN Well people seem to like the story so here is the final chapter, I might start another Sherlock story after this one. Sorry for the people who wrote that they hate Mycroft now…I hope this chapter will help with that.  
><strong> 

Mycroft had known that one day he would have to meet his fate, let them pass their judgement on what he had done. He however, had not expected to meet fate in the form of an angry, blond, tiny, ex-soldier.

"It's alright, let the man enter. Please, Jacob, Perry…just leave for a second. I'm perfectly fine on my own." The two bulks of muscle moved away from the door and down the hall leaving Mycroft with a fuming John.

"Well come on in Dr Watson." If John his shoulder hit Mycroft on his way in he would always deny it.

"To what do I owe…"

"You utter bastard!" he was cut off.

"Pardon me, need I remind you who you are talking to here John? One word from me and you'll be removed from the country." The smaller man let out a humourless laugh.

"You see, I don't think you will. At least I don't think you want Sherlock to end up in total misery, then again you have been pretty good at causing that already haven't you?"

"I care deeply for my brother…" The hit didn't take the black haired man by surprise, he had seen it coming. The problem though was that while he was trained in martial arts, he had left the practice slip as he had other people to do it for him.

"YOU CARE? Seriously Mycroft, he trusted you! You abused a small child you should have cared for. He is a self-proclaimed sociopath thanks to you! Then again maybe not self-proclaimed, I have the idea that you put that thought in his head as well."

"What do you want to hear from me John? Sorry? If I hadn't made him into the man he is today, you two would never even have met!"

"You think I want an apology? For gods sake Mycroft, I want to kill you! If it would have meant that Sherlock wasn't ridiculed by everyone around him, if it meant he was able to understand social concepts, if he could have had a normal life I would wish you away, I would make sure that you would never be able to touch his innocence back then!" The blond man was panting from all the yelling, and for the first time in his life Mycroft was almost afraid that this man would actually take his life.

"You think that I liked growing up with Sherlock! Do you think it was easy! The kid could deduce peoples life stories by the age of four. Mummy was so proud, until Sherlock made father leave of course. I had been the genius in our home, I had impressed my family. And then Sherlock came along. So smart, so pretty, so vibrant….gone was little Mycroft, who cares that he read literature by the age of five, Sherlock played Beethoven on the violin by that time and could recite entire books. And then father left and all of a sudden I had to take care of the person that made him leave. I was 12 and I had to raise a spoilt little kid!" Mycroft took a deep breath to steady himself. The loathing was evident on John his face.

"I regret what I did to him every single day, it had been the act of a petty adolescent child that could not deal with his jealousy. Yet Sherlock seemed to handle everything fine, why wouldn't he…but I made sure that when it came to social obligations he would never get hurt. No one but me was allowed to hurt my little brother."

John realized then exactly how twisted the Holmes family was. "Well you did the job splendidly, he was a lonely genius. Had Sherlock seriously been a sociopath he would have been able to deal yes, but did you forget that Sherlock isn't one? He needs people there Mycroft, and you clearly seem to chase away everyone around him. Is it because you just don't want to share Mycroft, or is it some petty way of making sure that Sherlock will always be a bit more miserable than you?"

"Oh please, I hardly ever had to do much to get the people away. No unfortunately, thanks to me, Sherlock did that all on his own. I just made sure that Sherlock never truly found out why they left."

"This is Sherlock we are talking about, he knows Mycroft. He knows that every single persons walked away because they thought the exact same thing as everyone else. That he was a _freak_." To Johns immense pleasure Mycroft seemed to pale just a few shades.

"I tried to keep it from him...try to understand John, I honestly did try to repent for my crimes against a small child that didn't deserve it." He looked so old, so incredibly old in this light. Even the suit seemed to have aged on the genius his body. John sagged into the chair next to the fireplace.

"I don't know whether I want to hit you anymore, but I swear to god Mycroft if I even so much as hear you talk to Sherlock about how he is different from everyone I will not hesitate to put my gun to your head."

Mycroft regarded the man in front of him. "How do you do it John?"

"How do I do what?"

"Love him, I'm his brother and even I find it difficult to deal with him."

John bristled "Sherlock is the easiest person in the world to love, so what that he has some bad habits, he is always honest to me, he will always come when I need him. He is just misunderstood, that doesn't make him a bad person. He is just _my _Sherlock." It was so difficult to explain how he could love that insane man, how when he looked at him he really looked at John. He was the only person in the world for Sherlock, the genius didn't even contemplate other people.

Mycroft smiled "I was wrong about you Dr Watson, I was afraid you would leave him just like the rest of them. My mistake."

"One of many." John muttered. "I'll leave you to your work, I have a handsome genius waiting for me." The grimace on Mycroft his face was worth it.

"you went to Mycroft then…" Sherlock deduced as John entered the apartment "Can I expect a funeral invitation soon?"

"Not yet, scoot over….you know we really should buy a bigger couch."

"A pity, and why would we do that….I'm perfectly fine with the way things are." Sherlock mumbled as he placed his face on John his shoulder, warming his cold fingers on the oh so delectable stomach. The scent of John was something that Sherlock now seemed to associate with home, deodorant, spices, tea and disinfectants from the hospital. He sighed contently.

"I was bored here you know….nothing interesting going on when you are gone…"

"I never took you for the sappy kind Sherlock." John teased pulling the man just a little closer.

"Well I am tired, you wore me out yesterday." At that John had the decency blush as he remembered the previous night.

"You are cute when you are red you know that, I should do an experiment to see how red I can make you…"

"Go to sleep Sherlock, you are clearly delusional." Life was good.

**AN: Well that was all for this story. Reviews much appreciated…I will take requests as well if they seem good enough.**


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